C mon truc

At first they didn't believe in me, to put it mildly, nobody
It started with those teachers who told me you'll amount to nothing in life
And they managed to get that into my mother's head
Then, it was the turn of those cops who told me:
Do you know where you'll end up if you keep going like this?
And as if that wasn't enough, the social worker had to get involved and even a lot of my buddies
But today is the time for payback!

I got this thing that bitches love
This rap that drives them crazy
This thing that kids are already picking up in their schoolyards
This thing that hangs around in cars during joyrides
This rap loved by those who have nothing to regret and by all who went wrong
This thing that some listen to before going to do their Biz or their Pez
While powdering their nose or even in plain screwing
This thing that some fear and disgusts others
Finally, this authentic rap from the streets that baffles many
This writing coming from the heart, guts, or belly
This soul that's not for sale, these lines that won't teach you anything
With me, no detours, never meandering
You already recognize the FF signature so you know what to expect
I only have classic rap,
A crew ready to blow everything up like plastic
Rhymes as precise as sudden,
it's explosive like our streets, it's the C4
If you keep pushing me, you'll find me one of these days

Chorus (x2)
It's all Freestyle, street life,
Do you see the thing
It's all about street life, Freestyle, street life
On the Mic, I don't hold back, my beauty

I got, I got this not chill thing, this rap spreading all over the city,
Spreading even among the snobs and corrupting their families
So some parents don't like my style too much, normal,
It's not my face you see on Foucault on Saturdays,
I got this thing from these so-called sensitive areas, this damn rebellious rap,
These pure lyrics of irascibility, this thing scented with street life and hope,
My rap at the beginning, as far as I know, I was the only one to believe in it
So now what's the deal, dad?
I keep enjoying myself, my dough, and that's already pretty good,
Whether they talk about me in a good or bad way, I don't give a damn,
My thing, my rap: cerebral and verbal violence,
You want to check the truth of these statements,
Come at the risk of overdosing on reality or Popo
You know the drill
I only have classic rap,
A crew ready to blow everything up like plastic
Rhymes as precise as sudden,
it's explosive like our streets, it's the C4
If you keep pushing me, you'll find me one of these days

Chorus (x2)

I'm definitely the one you would have never bet on
Or even the one you would have despised
That was without counting on this crazy thing your bitch is in love with
Nor on this rap that leaves you under my spell
I got, I got this thing that doesn't care about the notion of nation or civility,
Rap contrary to morality, I'm into cynicism
I screw the elite, I didn't go to Sciences Po or ENA
And smoke as much Pollena as my soc. Lucia
I have the same life as thousands, I come from these forgotten places
I'm just one more wanting to shine
Just one more bastard who didn't hesitate
As soon as there was a way to record something or make some cash
I'm linked to the street, my rap comes out traumatized
My pains no longer heal like those of a broken love
Heart cold and soul sad
I love shouting to the world that I don't give a damn and that I exist...
I only have classic rap,
A crew ready to blow everything up like plastic
Rhymes as precise as sudden,
it's explosive like our streets, it's the C4
If you keep pushing me, you'll find me one of these days